


Liquid Courage

by digthewriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: hogwarts365, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 09:16:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/pseuds/digthewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Harry was drunk and he said stuff to Draco.  He doesn't remember it. Then he finds out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liquid Courage

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Hogwarts365. 
> 
> WordCount: 365x2
> 
> Prompt: Harry New Year and "I waited for you."

“Happy New Year!” he said as he nodded to Harry and continued walking down the hall. Harry turned to watch him walk away. Malfoy was never that cheery, what was wrong with him?

“Or right with him,” Ron said.

“Oh, I said that out loud, didn’t I?” Harry asked, straightening his robes, then turned to walk with Ron.

“Yeah, you do that a lot. Especially after a few shots of Firewhisky,” Ron answered, as he nodded to the other co-workers near them. He seemed so casual about it. But Harry was anything but casual. He hadn’t been since the New Year’s Eve party. He’d woken up on Hermione’s sofa, not remembering a thing from the night before.

“What _happened_ that night?” Harry asked, confused and curious. No one would tell him. “I feel like I’m part of a joke that no one wants to let me in on,” he added, opening the door to their office.

Harry saw a large bouquet of flowers waiting for him at his desk. Ron laughed.

“Ron! What is it?” Harry nearly screamed.

“You were far too gone to control what you were saying, and I can’t believe you _really_ don’t remember!” Ron answered, confusing Harry even more.

“What are you talking about?”

Ron stepped closer to him and joined their foreheads together. It was a thing they’d learned from Hermione. Something about journeying together while on the hunt of Horcruxes. They had been linked and could share thoughts and memories with each other, without the magic of a Pensieve or a memory charm.

Harry sighed heavily before agreeing to it—see whatever it was that Ron wanted to show him.

They were at Hermione’s party and Malfoy had just walked in. Then, Harry saw himself speaking with Malfoy. He didn’t remember that. Then he felt Ron move closer, so he could hear what they were discussing.

“I really liked you, you know,” Harry had said, pushing his finger on Malfoy’s shoulder. “I waited for you. Waited, all the time, for you to make a move. Ask me to have a drink with you. But, I guess it’s true. You just don’t like me.”

“I do,” Malfoy had replied.

“I don’t believe you. And it’s too late now, anyway.” Harry tensed up as he watched Ron’s memory. Why would he say that it was too late?

“How can I—” Malfoy hesitated. “—amend things?”

“I don’t know,” Harry waved his hand in the air and turned to walk away.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Potter,” Malfoy said. “I know you’ve got the flare for being theatrical when you’re pissed, but tell me, how can I make you believe that I like you?” Malfoy had pulled Harry closer to him, and Harry had reacted in a way that made the _present_ Harry believe that he could feel Malfoy’s breath on him.

Harry watched himself lick his lips, stare at Malfoy’s lips, then pull away again.

“I want a big gesture. I’m not easy, you know!” Harry retorted.

“I know,” Malfoy said, nodding.

“I want flowers, and gifts, and…and…a grand gesture!” Harry had said; he was obviously under the impression that Malfoy would do no such thing.

“What kind of gifts?” Malfoy had asked, raising an eyebrow.

Malfoy looked sexy with that sly smirk on his face. Harry couldn’t believe that he hadn’t kissed him yet. He couldn’t believe that Ron (and possibly others) had _watched_ this go on and no one had told him.

He pulled apart from Ron, breaking their connection. He’d seen enough.  "I can’t believe no one told me about this!” Harry screamed his astonishment.

"Malfoy asked us not to tell you."

“Why?” Harry’s tone was nearly disdainful.

“Dunno.  I reckon he wanted you to figure it out all on your own. Maybe he just wanted a chance to prove to you on his own that he liked you.” Ron shrugged and returned to his desk.

“So why are you telling me?” Harry asked as he placed his hand on one of the petals of the dozen or so flowers on his desk, feeling its softness.

“When was the last time I listened to _Malfoy_ ,” Ron said, almost snorting. “I know you like him. I don’t know _why_ , but I know you like him even when you’re sober. I’m just giving you even ground.”

“Thanks, Ron," Harry said, scowling, and feeling grateful.

“Anytime.”


End file.
